Nothing Lasts Forever
by Nilfalasiel
Summary: This is a story that Harry is in... the beginnning focuses on him a lot...then you start getting into everything else that's going on. It's different then most other Harry Potter fan fics... and I would really love for people to R&R chap. 1 is reposted
1. The Beginning of the middle

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters and they don't own me so therefore neither one of is liable! A/N: I'm still not quite sure I'm happy with this chapter. It's uber-short but it's kind of a lead in to what's to come. Everyone knows Harry Potter! He was the boy who lived! He's more famous in the wizarding world than anyone else. And why was that?  
  
"It's because of this stupid scar!" Harry growled hitting his hand hard against his forehead. "Why the hell can't I just be some regular wizard that no one cares about? Is that too much to ask?"  
  
The echoes were his only answer. Brushing off a spider Harry was reminded of his life in the Dursley's closet. What he wouldn't give to be there right now. Taking a look around his cell he didn't see much. At least he had a decent blanket under the stairs at the Dursleys. Harry glanced up as he heard footsteps entering the room.  
  
"So are you ready to finish what we've started?" the voice hissed.  
  
"What do you think? Do you expect me to give up?" Harry responded.  
  
"Ah, but what do you have to fight for anymore? ...Answer that Harry Potter."  
  
"I..I.." Harry began.  
  
"That's right, all your friends have abandoned you. Your headmaster has deserted you. And your very own-"  
  
"I told you to shove it didn't I? What does it take to get some peace and quiet around here."  
  
The voice snorted in disgust. "What do you think you're royalty? Perhaps a month isn't enough to actually look around where you are. You don't really seem to be in the place of making demands."  
  
It was Harry's turn to sigh. 'How could he have gotten so carried away as to have gotten here? How the hell could he have ended up here?' But it was a stupid question and Harry knew it. He knew what happened after the Triwizard Tournament. He just couldn't bring himself to accept it. A pop interuppted Harry's thoughts once again. "I thought I told you to bugger off! Oh! Dobby?"  
  
He let out a frightened squeak. "So it is you Harry Potter?"  
  
Glancing around Harry could still see that the door was open a crack. "Yea, Dobby it's me, but listen, you have to get me out of here." he whispered urgently.  
  
Dobby shook his finger accusingly at Harry and exclaimed sadly, "Harry Potter killed his weazy. Dobby will not help Harry Potter," he said sternly. "Dobby thought you were his friend. And Mr. Weazy's friend too. But you tricksisied him like you tricksisied me. No one is going to help Mr. Harry Potter anymore. He is a disgrace." Then with a look of contempt Dobby disappeared with a pop.  
  
Now Harry was more upset then ever. 'Why won't anyway help him anymore? How could Dobby have found out? How could everyone know? And even if they did don't they know who he is? Dammit, back to that scar of his. Harry gasped. That was it! How didn't he have realized it before? It was his scar that had gotten him into this mess. Memories were flooding back to him now and Harry remembered his happy times spent at Hogwarts. Back when Hermione was still around and Ron and him were still close. God how could he have been so stupid. Harry had pushed everyone he loved away from him and now. Now it was finally starting to catch up to him.  
  
He had done just what Gilderoy Lockhart had warned him against. 'Damn even that git was right.'  
  
Harry could never stand being wrong. In fact that was the real thing that had got him into this mess. The visit from Dobby had only confirmed that and it made him that much more upset.  
  
'Shit what if Dobby really was serious? Yet how could he not be.' Harry realized how alone he was right then. 'And it's all my damn fault! If I hadn't... No,' he thought determinedly. 'I won't think about that. It's behind me now. It didnt' happen... it didn't..."  
  
Collapsing unto his tiny cot Harry lay there counting the number of spiders on the ceiling until he was able to drift into an unsettled sleep. 


	2. Memories

A/N Yes well I figured I better post before I go on vacation and people forget about my terribly confusing story. Yes so let me know if this any better to understand. If not feel free to throw rotten tomatoes (just not at me).  
  
******Dream******  
  
"Oy, Harry, wait up!" a red haired boy bellowed running up beside him.  
  
"Ron? Ron! Hey, did you have a good summer?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron shrugged. "Charlie came back for a visit. He was telling me about this dragon they found. Some new species and they look kinda like those blast- ended skrewt things."  
  
Harry couldn't help but laugh. He could still remember one of Hagrid's more horrible lessons. "So have you heard from Hermione since break?"  
  
"No I think she went off with Krum to meet his family." Ron said with a disapproving look.  
  
Stifling a laugh Harry walked into Flourish & Blotts. "Alright Ernie you can take your break now," Harry said nodding to the blonde boy behind the counter. Turning to Ron he put on a fake grimace and said, "Unfortunately unlike some people who can just lie around and listen to dragon stories I have work to do. Of course you're welcome to stay here and hang out for awhile."  
  
"So you finally moved out of the Dursleys then? Too bad we couldn't go and give your old cousin a visit, eh Harry?" Ron asked with his eyebrow raised menacingly. "Speaking of which, have you checked out Fred n George's new store? They bought out Zonko's and replaced it with Weasley's Wheezes. I've heard they got some wicked new tricks in. You wanna go see after you're done with this?"  
  
"Alright then."  
  
"Great! Well I'll see you then," Ron said and with that he got up and walked out the door.  
  
Harry smiled at his friend's retreating back and sighing went begrudgingly back to work.  
  
*******End Dream*******  
  
Harry slowly opened his eyes. With a sigh he rolled over and tried to remember his dream. It was those happy memories that had kept Harry going these past few months. Ever since he'd been rotting away on the floor of this dungeon he felt like he'd been losing apart of himself. His memories like the dream he just had were fading. All he'd experienced at Hogwarts was falling from his mind. Almost as if there was a slow leak that it was seeping out of that couldn't be fixed.  
  
A tear began forming slowly on Harry's cheek. Just thinking about the happy times he'd had with Ron earlier this year brought tears to his eyes. How far away those times seemed. He'd been without a friend, without a home, or a face to say hello to for what seemed to be an eternity. What hurt the most was that he knew he was responsible for it. He had pushed Ron away for nothing more then fame. The sorting hat was right he should have been in Slytherin. He was willing to hurt his friends in order to gain more power.  
  
***Flashback***  
  
"All you want is more recognition Harry. I mean your Quidditch Captain, and Head Boy. I mean your even dating the most popular girl in school for chrissakes! But you don't even care about the stuff you just do it so people will notice you! What the hell do you have to prove anyway? God everyone loves you anyway because your 'Famous Harry Potter." Ron mimicked.  
  
The anger was boiling up and he could feel it slowly attacking his very being. Raising his wand he pointed it at Ron's head and slowly began advancing on him. "Avera Kederva," He yelled. A flash of brilliant yellow light threw Harry backwards. He saw something black and hideous come out of his wand and dart towards Ron.  
  
***End Flashback***  
  
A single tear slowly began rolling down his dirt streaked face and fell silently to the floor. Why had he done it? Harry kept asking himself over and over again. He could still remember everything about that horrible night. All the little details that he only wanted to forget. But what came out of his wand was a picture too horrible and gruesome to think about. Feeling his skin prickle and his palms growing clammy just from recalling that night unnerved Harry. After the horrible encounter with Ron Harry was revived only to find himself among the Death Eaters. Wherever he was now stunk of them. The very walls reeked of their foul odor and it made him sick.  
  
A hiss and the sound of metal scraping across the floor announced to Harry that breakfast had arrived. He crossed the ground quickly and snatched the tray up, though the smell almost made him throw it down again in disgust. But Harry knew better than that. After staying here for as long as he had, he knew he had to eat the crap they were willing to give. What surprised Harry was why they even bothered. Many people would think that they poisoned the food but Harry had been here for several months eating the food they gave and he was still alive. Of course there can't be many people who would voluntarily eat the revolting stuff they gave him. Staring down at the gray goop Harry was reminded of troll mucus mixed with rotten vegetables. What made it worse for Harry was the fact that it really could be troll snot. But Harry knew he would starve unless he ate something and there was nothing else to eat. Plus there had to be some reason for keeping him around this long. What Harry didn't realize was that he would soon find out who was behind this on this very day.  
  
"Does Harry Potter want to come out and play?" an evil voice cackled and the door to Harry's cell swung open.  
  
Surprised Harry cautiously moved towards the door. Peering out he was taken aback at the brightness of the room. Shielding his eyes Harry stepped into a room filled with thousands of candles. They were floating from the cathedral ceiling and rows stood upon ancient mahogany book cases. Harry gasped to see a mirror standing against the far wall. Surprisingly it looked familiar and Harry realized that it was almost identical to the Mirror of Erised with only one difference; this mirror was black. Running up the mirror Harry could just make out an inscription written in curvy blood red letters Raeft sro wrou oyyl nos woh sror ri msiht. Peering greedily into the mirror Harry was disappointed to see only his dejected reflection looking back at him. Turning around slowly Harry was startled to see that he wasn't the only one in the room. What was more surprising was who was standing there.  
  
"Neville?" 


	3. Thwimbles

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter but they'll never take my ideas bwuhahahhaha they can't have them *runs away with the ideas*  
  
A/N: I know that the 5th book contradicts some of these things and makes them look unorigianalish but I had it all outlined before I swear so don't hate me. Well actually I didn't really swear.only at Umbridge..but that's besides the point.  
  
"Harry?" Neville squeaked his pale face shining with sweat.  
  
"Yea.." said Harry puzzled. "Listen Neville you have to help me get out of this place gesturing around him.  
  
Neville squirmed uncomfortably before answering. "Um..well - Harry did you really set a.well a Thwimble on Ron," Neville finished with and uncomfortable look.  
  
"Sorry I have no idea what that is."  
  
Without a word Neville had conjured up a book covered with horrible pictures of people dying in strange ways. With a clunk it landed at his feet where it seemed to give Harry a deep stare and then almost as if answering the Harry's thoughts the pages began to fly by. It finally stopped and lay open on page 437. Slowly picking up the book he found a picture that resembled the terrible thing that he'd seen that night in the Forbidden Forest and behind it lay a body..Harry's heart caught in his throat. "Ron," he gasped croakily.  
  
The Thwimblerethra or as it is more commonly known the Thwimble is nowhere near as kind as the name may seem. These fanged, winged creatures carry he souls away from anyone who has died due to non muggle kinds. This spell when completed is similar to the Dementor's Kiss. The creatures which are cousins to the Thestrals can only be seen by those who have had the Dementor's Kiss used on them. The only other way to see these hideous creatures is either by performing the Avera Kederva curse or by being the unfortunate person whose been hit by it.  
  
Harry looked up suddenly. "So wait does that mean I didn't kill him?"  
  
"Oh no Harry, you've done something much worse than that," a frosty voice said absolutely dripping with distaste. "You've turned me into something completely different. In fact you wouldn't recognize me I just a shadow of what I once was."  
  
"Voldemort?"  
  
Harry heard a cackle and Neville crumpled to the floor. The dark cloak made his red hair stand out even more. Gasping Harry took a step back.  
  
"Yes Harry it's me. Take a look at the powerful wizard that I have become. And it is all," Ron said pointedly, "thanks to you."  
  
"But Ron," said Harry shakily. "I.I thought you were..well..dead."  
  
"Well Harry as you can plainly see I'm not dead. That night you wanted so much to kill me. I should have known though. Famous Harry Potter can't even properly kill someone. But the hate you felt towards me was enough. You should have known your temper would have gotten you into trouble. The Dark Lord was able to feed off of it." Ron paused and let out a chuckle. "You know you never should have gone so deep in to the forest. You were safe on the grounds of Hogwarts but you went too far. After trying very unsuccessfully to kill me the Dark Lord arrived. But at least something good came out of it. It seems whatever spell you did cast made me realize where the power truly lies. I was finally free of what we were brainwashed into believing by that old bat of a headmaster."  
  
Harry clenched his fists in anger as his infamous temper flared up yet again. "How dare you insult Albus Dumbledore! He's still more powerful then Voldemort will ever be!"  
  
The room was once again filled with his malicious laughter. "You fool! The Dark Lord has already defeated him months ago." Harry's eyes grew big. "You see the Dark Lord is all powerful now. There's nothing to save ickle Harry Potterkins now."  
  
"But," said Harry weakly. "People still care.what about Cho? Cho still cares about me, and about us."  
  
A spiteful grin spread across Ron's face. "Oh does she now? Well we'll let you make that decision when you see what your little Cho has been up to these past few months."  
  
The ceiling began to flicker and grow to accommodate a screen that looked remarkably like a floating television. Slowly a picture swam into view and with a crackle the sound began wafting down. The room appeared to be an old one. It looked to be some kind of old secluded bedroom that a castle would have except it had fallen into disrepair over the years. Dusty hangings hung from the four poster bed and it was all cast in a rather eerie light of the flickering candles. The voices were muffled but Harry could make out two voices. Both were easily recognizable and very familiar. The first voice was the one of Harry's girlfriend, Cho Chang , and the second was none other than.  
  
"Malfoy?"  
  
Ron's grin widened and he put a finger to his lips to silence Harry.  
  
Listening intently Harry could just make out their whispers.  
  
"Oh Draco! I've never felt this way about anyone before,' Cho exclaimed breathlessly.  
  
"Shh baby it's ok," said Draco softly as he pulled her into a kiss. Several minutes later they pulled apart.  
  
"I love you Draco."  
  
"I love you too Cho."  
  
What happened next made Harry's insides run cold and made him feel sick. With the sound amplified Harry found it completly unbearable. He tried desperately to suffocate the sound by stuffing his hands in his ears. But Ron's smile only widened and with it the volume increased. Not until Cho's squeals of delight had subsided and they had both fallen into an exhausted sleep did Ron make the images disappear with a wave of his wand. Yet the sounds still echoed in his head.  
  
'Harry had never felt worse in his entire life. Neville and Dumbledore were dead and it was all his fault. Now to find out that Cho is sleeping with his enemy Malfoy and that she showed no sign of caring about Harry. Why had he been such a bastard to Ron? If he hadn't would any of this had happened? Who could help him now? Dumbledore was dead, Cho doesn't care where his is, Ron's turned into a death eater, Sirius was off in the tropics hiding with Buckbeak, and Hermione...she was with Krum. What hope could he have now? He was alone, no one cared and even though he'd dispaired day after day in his cell he had always had the one glimmer of hope that someone would save him. Ron had just destroyed what little hope he had left. Unless there was some way that Hermione could have found out... Maybe, just maybe she could still save him from this.' Feeling slightly more confident with the thoughts of Hermione Harry decided to speak up.  
  
"So you think taunting me with pictures of my ex girlfriend is enough to make me roll over and let you walk all over me?"  
  
"Oh no Harry," said Ron softly his eyes glinting in the candlelight. "I was just showing you that no one cared before you died."  
  
Harry's stomach dropped to the floor. Die. Feeling his knees buckle Harry fought the impulse to run. To just run and leave all of this behind. To go back to the days when he had been a happy carefree teen. Now everything seemed to have gone horribly wrong. Ron wanted nothing more to kill Harry right now. And how could he blame him after how he'd treated him over the years. Anyone would get fed up. He was going to die now, he knew it, and he also knew it was all his doing.  
  
"You wouldn't believe me before Harry. You didn't want to hear what I had to say. But now you'll damn well listen!" snarled Ron advancing a few steps. "You don't know what it's like to live in the shadows of all your brothers. Then i come to school and all I'm ever known as is Harry Potters best friend. Of course you didn't care. You encouraged it and they all listened to every word that you had to say. But I'm more than that and I'll show them. I'll show everyone that I'm more powerful than their heros. And I'll start by killing you." Ron finished gripping his wand tightly.  
  
This was the part that Harry had been dreading. Glancing around quickly Harry couldn't see anything that he could use to defend himself. Without his wand he would have no way to block the curse he knew was coming. 'But I'm not going to let him see me run scared,' Harry thought defiantly.  
  
Raising his wand above his head Ron prepared to utter the few words that would end his best friends life. But his once kind eyes showed no pity or remorse for what he was about to do. "Avada Kedav.." 


	4. Saved by who?

A/N: I know people were upset by my ending of the last one. I know I left you hanging but hey I actually got people who said that they wanted to read my story. I would love some new reviews so if there's people reading this that aren't reviewing.please oh please review! And a quick recap for just in case..  
  
Raising his wand above his head Ron prepared to utter the few words that would end his best friends life. But his once kind eyes showed no pity or remorse for what he was about to do. "Avada Kedav.."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
There was a burst of light and Ron fell to the floor next to Neville.  
  
Harry looked up in surprise. 'What's going on?' Harry was startled to see Ron lying on the floor. 'Who could have saved me? It couldn't be Dumbledore could it?' Harry thought turning around. "Dumbledore is that you?"  
  
"Ah. Indeed for once it's not your precious headmaster here to save you. I have defeated him already." the voice said offhandedly. "But I thought you knew that."  
  
"Voldemort?" questioned Harry in a hollow voice. "But.but why did you stop him?"  
  
"I have my reasons Potter," he hissed reducing his red eyes to slits. "Now get back in your cell before I come to my senses and kill you."  
  
"No!"  
  
"What did you say to me boy?"  
  
"I said no. Lets end this here and now."  
  
"How dare you defy me!" he bellowed. "If you won't go willingly then perhaps this will persuade you. Crucio!"  
  
Harry collapsed to the floor in spasms of pain. His leg began twitching violently and his scar was seering with pain. "Alright," he gasped finally. Harry felt the curse lift slightly, just enough for him to crawl into his cell. Hearing the bars clang shut behind him he sank down from his knees and slipped into an exhausted sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Wormtail?" the dark lord hissed.  
  
"Yes master," cried a short plump man running up to him.  
  
"Tell me what have you been doing?"  
  
"I've been guarding the doorways into the dungeon my lord," he said with a bow.  
  
"Then can you explain to me how Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley got in and spoke to our prisoner Harry Potter?"  
  
"Someone..in here. Talking to Harry Potter..." the man squeaked.  
  
"Yes." he replied icily. "Explain."  
  
"I.my lord.."  
  
"Wormtail do not tell me you fell asleep again!" he cried exasperatedly.  
  
The man cowered down and put a single silver hand up protesting. "Ple...please master.." he whimpered.  
  
"Why do I suffer with your insolence?!? You may have come to me in my moment of need, but you are proving to be more trouble than is worth. Do you know what could have happened? I've kept Ron around because of all the hate he has. It's enough for me to make him work for me. But you know how much he would like to kill Harry for what he's done. Unlike you he is willing to fight, and fight to the death. He is not weak and will stop at nothing to kill Harry."  
  
"I know master."  
  
"This is not just his life that you were playing with you fool!!!"  
  
The tiny man shrunk into the corner even farther. Crying into his robes he begged for mercy.  
  
"Get up!" he spat. "I don't want you in my sight!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry slowly opened his eyes. The pain in his head had subdued to a small ache. But when he tried to get up it sent a shot of pain across his forehead. Falling back Harry was surprised to find himself lying on the damp ground of the dungeon. Flashes came back to him...Neville crumpled on the floor, Ron was alive, Cho.., Harry shuddered. And then. someone saved him. How had he lived until today..Harry wasn't sure. What day was it anyway? He glanced up at the stone wall where there were countless tic marks that appeared to have been drawn randomly. But Harry alone seemed to understand them for he gave a startled gasp and blurted out, "I've been asleep for six days?"  
  
"Almost seven actually. You're lucky he didn't kill you when he had the chance."  
  
Harry recognized that voice from somewhere. Turning around Harry found him face to face with a hook nosed, sallow skinned wizard. "Snape? You...you traitor!"  
  
"Ah your not one to talk Potter. That little spell you performed was above what I thought you were capable of. Being the.celebrity that you think you are you never really made it a point to study much did you? You always thought it easier to ask Ms. Granger to help you. So not surprisingly the spell didn't even work correctly. You weren't able to remove Mr. Weasley's soul though you did manage to remove all his happy memories, his dreams, and hopes, etc. But you can live without them. You're living proof enough of that. I wouldn't dream of you ever having any hope of making it in this world. However quite unfortunately you are still alive." Snape finished with a sneer.  
  
Harry could feel his anger boiling up again. If it weren't for the bars separating him and Snape he would have killed him right then, screw the wand. Instead Harry gave a very forced smile and replied, "Well obviously one can live without a soul too. Look at you."  
  
"You better watch your temper now boy it could get you into a lot of trouble. Look where it's already gotten you. You're locked in a dungeon, your best friend is trying to kill you, and everything that you hold dear has been taken away."  
  
"Why are you really here Snape?" Harry questioned, his eyes narrowed. "Did Voldemort send you here to try and break a deal with me?"  
  
Snape's impish grin seemed to flicker for a moment before he gave a harsh laugh that seemed to echo through the room. "The Dark Lord doesn't make deals Potter!  
  
"Then why am I still alive?"  
  
"He must have some plan for you believe me. No one would actually want to keep you around for a long time." Snape shot him a look that Harry was positive could kill a small goat and continued. "Are you really that dense Potter that you don't get it? He should have killed you last week and not even his most faithful death eaters seem to know why he's kept you around."  
  
Suddenly Harry realized something. As Snape drew closer the smell of alcohol seemed to grow. Looking up Harry could see Snape's eyes slip in and out of focus and his pale face seemed to be tinged with red. But why would he..why would Snape be drunk.. The idea seemed absolutely preposterous. If anyone had told him a year ago that he'd be locked in a dungeon and Snape would be spilling his secrets after having too much Firewhisky Harry would have sent them straight to Madame Pomfrey. What bothered him the most was why.Why would Snape be able to get down here in the first place? Why would he want to? And why would Snape be drunk?  
  
"-died I thought that was just going to be the end."  
  
"Wait! What do you mean? Who died?" 


	5. Rita Skeeter

Disclaimer: You could sue me for using a similar storyline to Rowling, but hey, I swear I had this in my head before the book came out. So I admit it; I don't own the characters, but I still own my ideas and you'll never take them! Ever! bwuahahhaha  
  
A/N: Alright I need you to forget the prophesy made in the last book alright. I had this all planned out before and so now I just need a little help from you people. If you haven't read the book yet forget everything I just said. And please oh please review because I don't have a lot of inspiration to write if people aren't going to read it. *bats eyelashes* I'm trying desperately not to confuse people. Hopefully this will clear up some things!  
  
"Haven't you heard? I would think you'd be the first to know if she died..." Snape fumbled with his robes and pulled out what appeared to be a large bottle of Odgen's Firewhiskey.  
  
"If who died?" Harry cried frantically.  
  
"Who do you think Potter? That know-it-all finally met her match and got what all of you deserve."  
  
"No…" he said weakly. "It can't be. Not Hermione too…"  
  
Snape's grin widened. "Ah, I should have known. You seemed positively cheerful the other day. I wouldn't expect you to cheer with the rest of us at the Mudblood's death."  
  
"Wait, what are you talking about?"  
  
"What's that boy?"  
  
"You said the other day I was cheerful. I think I'd remember talking to a slimy sorry ass git like yourself."  
  
Snape's lips thinned and his voice got dangerously soft. "You watch what your saying Potter. No one is here to protect you now."  
  
Determined not to back down Harry met Snape's cold glare. The anger and hatred was coming back again. It seemed to spread through him everyday and take a little bit more of his sanity. Striding up to the bars Harry asked, "Who killed her Snape?" His voice was quiet but precise almost daring Snape not to answer him.  
  
Moving a step closer to Harry he replied coolly, "I did."  
  
Harry slammed his fist against the bars so suddenly Snape drew back in surprise. Something inside Harry seemed to have snapped and he just lost control. Throwing his small cot across the cell he gave the wall a few reassuring kicks and then started attacking his mattress. Kicking the ground every moment or two Harry proceeded to rip great chunks of the mattress out spreading feathers everywhere.  
  
The expression on Snape's face had changed from surprise to amusement. Soon his cruel laughter echoed throughout the room. But it only helped fuel Harry's rage. When the mattress had been torn to pieces and the spring lay in shambles in the corner he turned on the small sink. Pulling the pipe out from underneath the sink he began smashing the chipped porcelain sink. With a final smash the mirror shattered sending shards of glass all over the floor. Bleeding and utterly exhausted Harry collapsed on the floor, his glasses askew and shirt ripped.  
  
Snape had finally stopped laughing and with a lackadaisical swish of his wand he cleaned up the bits of broken glass. "I think we'll leave you to think about what you've done." said Snape a slight tone of amusement in his voice. "Maybe next time you won't be so quick to lose your temper." With a swish of his cloak Snape left the room. Laughing quietly he strode up to the small man, head back and snoring slightly. "You'd better not let him find you like that again Peter."  
  
The man woke with a start and blinked around stupidly. "No master everything's fine here."  
  
Giving a snort of disgust Snape retorted back. "You know he'd kill you if you let Ron in again. I know what almost happened."  
  
"What? Oh no. I would never. How do you…? Oh it doesn't matter. The boy wasn't in there, I should know. You….you haven't seen him in there have you Severus?"  
  
An odd grin spread across his face and he only asked "You wouldn't happen to have the time would you Peter."  
  
Giving him an odd look Peter pulled out a tattered pocket watch that had tarnished in age. "It's almost 11:30." A flicker of panic erupted on Snape's face and he turned on his heel and began striding down the hall. "Wait Severus! Where are you going?"  
  
"To find the boy. And if what you said is true than I should find him quite soon." Laughing Snape whipped around the corner but his gait was changing. His posture became more awkward and fumbling and he seemed to grow a few inches. Small freckles began popping up on his face and his hair was slowly becoming red. With a final snort of laughter the once commanding Potions master was replaced than none other than Ron Weasley. Ducking into a classroom Ron pulled off the robes that were now two sizes too small. Turning around Ron faced a giant picture that was covering the wall. It appeared to have once been of the "wonder trio". But Hermione's picture had been blown apart and Ron's had left it entirely. All that was left was the blown up picture of Harry alone in the large picture frame.  
  
Slinking over to the picture Ron picked up a few muggle darts and began to throw them at the photo.  
  
"Ha! I'm going to let you suffer now Harry. I'm going to let you suffer knowing that everything you ever loved is gone. That no one thinks of you as their famous Harry Potter anymore. Instead they all loath you. They know the real prophesy now. See, I never told you Harry, but that day of my Transfiguration exam Trelawney had a real premonition. It must have been the incense or something. I mean that bat had two true predictions in one day. But they all know now that as long as you're still alive Voldemort can't die! There's only one way for Voldemort to die and that is if you die Harry. You're so stupid you don't even know why he's keeping you around. See that night he transferred too much of himself over to you. So now he can never be truly alive because part of him lives within you." Ron gave a harsh laugh. "You've got the same evil within you that he can't live without. So as long as you're still alive he's still in power. Needless to say you're certainly not as popular as you used to be. If I could have just killed you I would have defeated the Dark Lord and everyone would be looking to me as there hero for a change. But once again you must take it away from me. So now I just have to make Voldemort think I'm on his side…."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
There was a faint buzzing and a ladybug flew from her perch on the windowsill outside of the castle. Finding another open door it made its way slowly down into the dungeons. With a faint pop the ladybug had morphed into a woman in bright green robes and jeweled glasses. In her hand were a crocodile-skin handbag and a roll of parchment. Prodding Peter awake she gave him a stern look over her glasses. "You know you can't be falling asleep like this."  
  
"I know, I know," he said with a yawn. "What do you want anyway?" he asked irratibly looking from her bright robes to the handbag clutched tightly under her arm.  
  
"I have some very interesting news for our Lord."  
  
"Involving what, if you don't mind me asking?"  
  
"I do mind as it's none of your business. Now take me to see our Lordship."  
  
"As you wish milady." Peter said with a bow. Leading her through several doors and tapestries they arrived at last to what seemed to be a plain unmarked door with the exception of a single serpent entwined around a tree. She gasped and Peter nodded fervently. "I know it almost seems real."  
  
"Well come in," said a voice from within the depths of the chamber. "I'm not going to sit here waiting all day Wormtail. Bring her inside."  
  
"Yes master!" cried Peter bursting through the door and throwing himself at the feet of the chair sitting close to the fire.  
  
But the man in the chair seemed to be ignoring the quivering lump at his feet. Instead he turned his attention to the woman who had entered. "Ah Rita. I was wondering when you might show up. Have a drink." A single white scabbed hand held out a goblet.  
  
Taking the goblet and drinking deep Rita unfurled the parchment. "Please my lord. I have been staying in Mr. Weasley's room as you asked and I learned some very interesting things. For example the fact that Mr. Weasley was present during the prediction. He knows what would happen if he kills Harry and seemed rather eager to do it too."  
  
"Well that is interesting. Tell me Rita, has he seen you following him yet?"  
  
"Of course not my lord. But he does know that I'm an animagus. That mudblood bitch of his caught me 3 years ago. She thought she was so clever." Rita laughed but it sounded hollow and unatural.  
  
"But the boy..." the voice pried. "What were the boy's plans?"  
  
"He didn't mention anything. He just said he was going to leave Harry alone."  
  
"She's lying," the man squeaked from the floor.  
  
"Quiet Wormtail. She can't be lying since I've given her Veritaserum."  
  
The dazed look on Rita's face didn't change as she babbled on. "Is it true that you can't live if Harry dies? Is that why you're keeping him all locked up down there? So he won't get hurt and so he won't get all noble on you?"  
  
"Silence!" he bellowed and Wormtail cowered to the ground. "Did he talk about how much Harry knew?"  
  
"Oh yes my lord. He went on about how stupid Harry was. How Harry didn't realize that there must be some reason for you keeping him here alive for all this time. And-"  
  
Voldemort cut her off. "Thank you Rita. You have been quite helpful. But with that in mind I can't have you blabbing my secrets off everywhere. So goodbye Rita." he nodded at Wormtail and turned back to the fire.  
  
"Oh goodbye then." Rita said good naturedly mistaking the death sentence for politeness.  
  
Wormtail trembling slightly raised his wand above his head and with a swish he cried, "Avada Kedavra!" There was a flash of green light and Rita's body fell to the floor. 


	6. Reality

Disclaimer: What if I didn't say that I didn't own the Harry Potter characters? Could you really sue me? Would you want to? *tears* Well considering I have no money so I better not do that.  
  
A/N: I'm sorry it takes me awhile between chapters. Life has been hectic. Not really anything too important too say... *vacant stare* Thank you so much everyone that's reviewed! It keeps me from putting off the chapters even longer.  
  
Harry sorely climbed to his feet. Painfully bending over he lifted the crooked bed frame and did what he could to set it right. His mattress it seemed was in a worse state. Chunks of stuffing were strewn about and several springs had been pulled out as well. Sighing he slowly pulled the mattress back on to the metal frame. His arms were already exhausted but it was nothing to how he felt inside. He was raging a war in his mind.  
  
The same questions kept popping into his head. Why had he done it? Why had he lost his temper? There really wasn't anything in particular that Ron had done that was so horrible.. Now that Harry looked back on it all seemed so stupid... Why had he lost his temper? Mostly he thought it was all the little things. He couldn't stand the fact that Ron could have been right... He was supposed to be the smarter one. Ron was just his sidekick. Or at least that's what Ron used to be... He had smartened up and tried to pull away from Harry. To finally make it out of the shadow of him.  
  
A mocking voice answered him. "You couldn't bear to have someone better than you. Could you? He was finally proving that he could be better than Famous Harry Potter so you had to get rid of him didn't you?!? Ron was right too! You remember the little discussion in the Forest before your sad attempt to kill him? It seems he was interrupting your 'perfect little world'."  
  
"No! No of course not! Ron I didn't mean it!" Harry cried frantically.  
  
"Are you sure? You could be great you know! It's all here in your head and killing Ron will help you on your way to greatness." The words echoed through his mind.  
  
His thoughts ran back to when he had first arrived at Hogwarts. Sitting on the small stool he remembered the Sorting Hat's similar words. "You could be great you know. It's all here in your head. And Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness." But he'd been sorted into Gryffindor and moments later he was joined by a very relieved Ron. It seemed so long ago, they had both changed so much. 'What has he done to everyone?' Harry began to sob into his robes and he couldn't stop. He cried for Dumbledore, Hermione, Neville, Cho, Ron... He let out a strangled breath. Most of all he cried for how things had changed so much and it hurt to know that he was responsible. But through the tears Harry didn't notice that someone had been watching him. He couldn't hear its supportive meows and he didn't see the cat slink back around the corner. All he could do was cry.  
  
It wasn't until almost an hour later that Harry gave out one last muffled sniffle and sat up. His bones ached even more now and his head was pounding. But despite the nausea that was threatening to overcome him Harry couldn't help but feel better. Almost as if part of the huge weight holding him down had been lifted away. Raising his tear stained cheeks Harry peered into the dungeon beyond his cell. Most of the candles had long since been extinguished except for the few that stood around the mirror. Half in awe and half in curiosity Harry was drawn to the bars of his cell. The black ivory shimmered in the flickering candlelight, almost as if it was calling him too it. The mirror was beautiful and he wanted nothing more than to be gazing into it right now. The glow of the candles was reflecting softly in the mirror and all Harry wanted to do... was throw something at it! No! Harry thought desperately. No more violence... I'm so sick of all the violence. At least that's the one thing I can control.  
  
"Can you?" asked the wicked voice. "Look around you. You did all of this off of two words. Do you still have that illusion that you can actually contain your anger?"  
  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, he knew the voice inside his head was right. "But..." he thought, his hand shaking. "I can control it..." Yet Harry knew he was lying. "I don't know how to deal with my anger."  
  
"Oh for chrissakes Potter this isn't some kind of AA meeting!"  
  
Harry was taken aback for a moment. Not by the fact that a man had just appeared out of thin air rather, but what he was talking about. 'Did Voldemort just mention something about alcohol anonymous? No... I'll just ignore that he's never said a thing like that before. "Twice in ten days? To who do I owe the pleasure?"  
  
"Don't get cheeky with me boy!" he spat out.  
  
"Cheeky? What, are you turning into a muggle? First AA and then you call me 'cheeky'. Your starting to sound like my Uncle Vernon."  
  
There couldn't be anything that upset Voldemort more. In fact, in all the years Harry had to face him he'd never seen him this angry. His red eyes were bulging in anger and it seemed that there was only a tiny shred of self control that held him from ripping Harry limb from limb.  
  
"Let's get one thing straight boy I am not a muggle. I am the most powerful wizard of all times! Soon I will rule the world and no one can stop me."  
  
Laughing hysterically, Harry could only nod. After he had calmed down a bit he was able to speak more than a few words at a time. "Geez, all I did was say you're acting like a muggle. No need to get all bent out of shape about it."  
  
"Do you think this is a joke boy? Have you ever shown this kind of dedication? Have you?! You loser! I have spent my whole life working up to this and you aren't going to stop me. I've worked too hard, I know I will succeed. The only question is if you will join me in doing it."  
  
"I would never join you and you know it! If it weren't for you I'd be home right now with two loving parents! I'd be happy!!"  
  
"Ha! You still have the illusion that your parents were great people?" Voldemort's anger turned into amusement.  
  
"I know my father wasn't perfect. He picked on Snape all the time, but, Snape was a git even back then."  
  
"Oh, those childish pranks. Yes, James did seem to play those a lot. Especially on Severus. But he has done other, far worse things as well."  
  
"Stop it!" Harry yelled curling himself into a ball. "I won't listen to it! It doesn't matter, so just stop, just... stop." he faded off.  
  
Voldemort's grin widened. "Your father."  
  
But Voldemort didn't get any further than that. Harry sprung at the bars and snarled, "I told you to shut up about my dad!"  
  
"Tsk.. tsk, temper, temper. Well than, I see now that my work here is done." With that Voldemort once again disappeared beneath his invisibility cloak and Harry heard his footsteps echo across the dungeon floor. But the damage had already been done, and by the smile on Voldemort's face he knew it.  
  
'What could his father have done that was so terrible? He knew about the joke that Sirius had tried to play on Snape, but his father had saved him from that. Plus, Voldemort said it was something more than a childish prank. Perhaps..' he thought. 'Maybe I can get it out of someone else.'  
  
Seeing the edge of a cloak hanging around the corner Harry took a chance and hoped it was Peter on watch. "Wormtail! Oy Peter! Wake up!" But Peter was still slumped sleeping as usual in the same decaying chair at the door.  
  
Picking up a small spring Harry threw it at the wall as hard as he could. It wasn't that loud but it was enough to tear Peter away from the dream world and bring him crashing back down to harsh reality.  
  
Seeing him finally stirring Harry had a new wave of enthusiasm. "Hey, Peter, come here." he beckoned.  
  
Wormtail gazed stupidly around for a few moments then climbed to his feet and peered warily into the dungeon. A look of surprise crossed his face when he realized it was Harry calling him, but he still entered and took a few steps toward Harry before pausing and staring.  
  
"Erm," said Harry, slightly put out. His courage seemed to have failed because instead of asking about his father like he intended he mumbled something under his breath. When Peter didn't answer him he looked up in annoyance. "Why are you here?"  
  
Peter answered bluntly, "Why are any of us here?" Harry's face screwed up in thought but Peter took no notice. He only plowed on. "Everything we think is important are merely things. They have no meaning. like my life."  
  
Harry was taken aback. This wasn't at all the kind of answer he'd expected. Especially from Peter - the same man who gave up his friends for a bit of power. Against his better judgement Harry felt bad for the poor man. He looked so lost and alone. Much like. Harry sucked in his breath quickly. 'No!' he thought fiercely. 'I am nothing like that scum. He murdered my parents. But he was scared. Everyone was.' Harry suddenly felt a wave of pity for him. 'Was everyone like this? Just as scared and lost?' A rock settled in the pit of his stomach. 'We're all alone. No one can help me. They are just as lost as me.' Peter was still rambling on but Harry wasn't listening anymore. He couldn't bear the fact that he would have to live with himself for that long. A huge weight felt like it was pressing down on his head and he felt like at any second it could just explode from the pressure. And so the 'Famous Harry Potter' came to realize that he was no different then anyone else. The real world was finally crashing down around him and Harry didn't like what he saw.  
  
A/N: Sorry this chapter wasn't as action packed but the truth is it's angst and this was needed. 


	7. A Leap of Faith

Disclaimer: Due to multiple threats and complaints to parties that I shall not name here I have been requested to just make this serious so it will fit into the seriousness of my story. In response to that I must say skip it then! XP!! No but anyway I still don't own the Harry Potter characters because if I did I'd be in Scotland right now frolicking in the fields!  
  
A/N: On a more serious note...*tries very hard to look serious...ends up scaring cat* alright too much sugar but make sure and laugh now and then be serious. Because Harry is having issues finally *evil grin* and you learn so more about Peter...actually just so there's no confusion this chappy is in Peter's POV sort of...but only this chappy  
  
Peter could tell that Harry wasn't listening any more. 'He doesn't know what it's like to truly suffer. To go through your entire life following others because you're too scared to say no. This kid has always been the leader. He doesn't realize how well he does have it.'  
  
It startled him when Harry piped up again. "Go away." he growled.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said go the fuck away!!" Harry screamed.  
  
Rushing out of the room Peter passed his usual chair instead leaned against the wall and paused breathing heavily. Looking around he saw that the hallway was empty with the exception of his own spiny chair. 'Where is that boy? He's late as usual...' thought Peter gazing around the corner scrutinely. A tall lumbering fellow was loping towards him. "Ahh Gregory, there you are."  
  
He grunted in return.  
  
"Now listen. No one can enter this room. Not even you. I'm locking the door and you just need to stop people from getting in."  
  
"Right." said Goyle absentmindedly sitting down into the chair and sending dust flying.  
  
Peter gave a sigh, 'He'll never learn. But better he doesn't know who's in there. He never did seem to care for Harry.'  
  
Goyle had made it clear that the conversation was over and Peter begrudgingly turned his back to the boy. Heading through the countless hallways Peter felt compelled to just wander endlessly. He pushed on all of his weariness forgotten. Thoughts of a much needed rest in his small room slowly slipped away.  
  
Suddenly Peter felt memories come flooding back to him. They were joyous ones, when he was finally let into the Potter's group. Happiness spread through his and warmed his heart. The light was enveloping him now and he felt strangely free. The Peter did something that he hadn't done in years. Peter smiled.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry awoke with a start. His scar was burning and he had just had the most realistic dream. He had leaped from the eastern tower and fallen in a slow graceful arc to the ground. It had felt so real though. His heart had caught in his chest almost as if he was the one falling. The sensation was that of sheer bliss. But the hard and very abrupt landing also filled his mind. Harry had a sensation in the back of his mind that part of him had leaped from the tower. That part of him had died. But that had been happening ever since he had learned of the Headmaster's death. Another part of his identity seemed to slip through his fingers whenever another life was lost. "Is that all I am? Can I not exist without others?" whispered Harry.  
  
"Perhaps you are asking the wrong question Harry."  
  
"What? What do you mean by that? Bloody hell! Boyle? Is that you?" Harry asked shocked.  
  
"Yes it's me. I can't believe it. So the rumors are true. You've got no idea what's going on around here. Why don't you open your eyes and see what's really going on here."  
  
"Wait a minute you're lecturing me? Last time I checked you were just Malfoy's brainless sidekick."  
  
"Well time changes people Potter. Though in your case it may have made an exception. I see you're still just as clueless as you were during school. It's only you that can put a stop to this you know. But responsibility has never been a big thing for you. You've always found some way out of it. Well now you're stuck Harry. The clock is ticking and time is running down. It's your decision. What are you going to do?"  
  
"I... I... I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you right now! Whose side are you on anyway? Talking like that it sounds like your against Voldemort."  
  
Goyle gave a small nod.  
  
"But... I thought." said Harry stupidly.  
  
"It's quite obvious you haven't been thinking Harry. If you had you wouldn't still be here now. Your problem is that you don't want to be rescued."  
  
Harry opened his mouth to protest but Goyle raised his hand silencing him.  
  
"You've always been the rescuer, the big hero. It would shatter your pride to have someone take you without letting you at Voldemort. Your life revolves around Voldemort, Harry. Without him you would be nothing. You think all you want is revenge but when it comes down to it could you kill him?"  
  
"Of course!" Harry growled.  
  
"You answered too quickly. There is no way you had time to truly think about the answer. For life and death are delicate things. They are tied together by a single thread. It is the same with good and evil. When the string is broken both will fall. Who are you to cut the string and what will happen after you do?"  
  
"I don't understand. So you're saying that good and evil are linked?"  
  
"Without one the other cannot exist."  
  
But Harry was still as confused as ever. "But does that mean evil will always exist?"  
  
"Of course. There is evil in the hearts of every man."  
  
Harry put his hand to his chest and Goyle nodded solmenly.  
  
"Yes Harry more than you know. Wake up, please wake up."  
  
Harry couldn't believe his ears. Goyle, the very same thick-headed sidekick of Draco was now a member of his team and currently trying to have a deep conversation with him. The things that had happened over the past few days were unconcieveable. "Are you sure that you're Goyle?"  
  
Goyle looked up disbelievingly. "Are you serious? Of coure I'm Goyle you fool!"  
  
"Well you certainly aren't acting like him."  
  
"Like I said Potter, times change, people change. But it seems that your mind is still closed to new ideas. Think about what I've said Harry. It's not too late yet but the hour is nearer then you think. It is all up to you now. You have chosen your hand and now you are to play it as you wish. Remember only you can decide." With a creak Goyle slipped out the door.  
  
'The absurdity of it all. Goyle telling me what to do. The nerve.' A shrill hissing cry drew Harry rather abrutly from his thoughts.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Voldermort let out a strangled cry. His skin felt like it was boiling hot and before his eyes he saw his hand was melting away. The pain was seering through him like a knife but through his anger he seemed to ignore it entirely. "Peter!" he bellowed angrily. "What in the bloody hell is going on?" Banging open the door he leapt out of the room and stood in the hallway.  
  
An eerie voice filled the hallway and Voldemort stopped in his tracks. "...you shall be restored. But remember this and remember it well. For there is no one who can break this spell. Forever you shall be bound. Until you lie beneath the ground. For all that all that help you see it through. Forever will be linked with you. But beware when they meet their death. Be sure that you will draw your last breath."  
  
Voldermort turned around and let out a very forced breath. "Fuck." 


	8. Angry Expressions

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone because... I'm not that special..  
  
A/N: So the plot is thickening! yes well just a slight reminder to... people that forgot. 5th book didn't happen and Harry is ignorant, very much so. Just in case because I wouldn't want people upset at me. This chapter does gets a bit dark.. and the poetry is my own so I hope you like it... R&R plz!!  
  
Harry's eyes rolled back and he began shaking uncontrollably. His right hand felt as if fire was spreading down it and burning anger was surging inside him. He felt his vision become red and his arm gripped a wand tightly. Barging into a room he was met with a startled classroom of students. He recognized Colin among them. Before he could stop himself he was cursing the closest students. A good ten of them had fallen before a very flustered looking Professor Flitwick burst in.  
  
'Avada Kedavra!'  
  
Harry was horrified to see his teacher's small body crumple to the ground. Mayhem broke out among the students after that but still he couldn't stop himself. Then Harry found himself blocking Colin into a corner. The trembling sixth year tried to defend himself but it was no use. Harry felt his arm raise and he was about end yet another life.  
  
"No!" he cried.  
  
But Harry's cry went unnoticed and Colin's horrified look didn't change as his body slumped to the floor.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~  
  
"NOOOO!!!!!!" Harry yelped as he rose sweating from his bed. Looking around he was desperately confused. 'How can I be here? I just saw myself... Did that really happen?" Harry's heart caught in his throat. 'Did I just really kill Colin?' He felt tears well up in his eyes but he couldn't cry. Not again.  
  
Colin had turned out to be so much more for Harry during the past few years... No one knew though. Not even Hermione or Ron. But he hadn't really been talking to them truthfully for some time. Colin was just one more thing he had to cover up. Another lie he created, and another part of the secret world that no one knew.  
  
Why hadn't he told anyone about Colin he wasn't sure. Harry had never really considered being rejected by his peers. He really didn't care either. They had connected on a level that no one else could ever understand. But now even Colin was dead.  
  
"That's it! I must be cursed with bad luck. This is just getting old!" Harry complained loudly.  
  
"Again it's about you. Have you learned nothing. They've all tried to help you and you still don't understand. It's not about you anymore Harry. You have to swallow your pride dammit! It's not about popularity anymore."  
  
Harry recognized that voice but he couldn't believe his ears. He had seldom heard her not yelling, especially at him. Yet how, why would she be here.  
  
"I know what you're thinking Harry. Let it go alright. I know what you think you know about me but put it behind you. You aren't the only one living lies. That isn't what's important though. What is important is that you look past all this. It's not too late."  
  
Harry sighed. That's twice in two days that someone had told him that he had to make a decision. "But what if I make the wrong one... What if I chicken out? What if I just can't do it?"  
  
"You have to trust yourself. You will know when the answer comes. But his rage subsides, I must be quick. Remember what I said Harry. Just this once listen to me."  
  
"Aunt Petunia wait!"  
  
Yet once again Harry was alone. 'Had he imagined it?' But all his suspicions were soon blown away when he saw a small box that told him it was from his aunt. Reaching through the bars he lifted up the small golden box. Ripping off the ribbon he opened the box only to find a small note inside.  
  
'Harry, time is running out. But it isn't too late.'  
  
Harry made a growling noise in his throat. "How is this supposed to help me!" he yelled throwing the box against the wall as hard as he could. Then he just sat there, fuming. "It's nice that all these damn visitors don't want to help me! Sure they come and offer me all this advice but advice is crap. It doesn't melt these bars. It doesn't get me out of here. Or fix anything that I've done. They are just words. They don't mean one damn thing..."  
  
"I wish I had never gotten this stupid scar. I wish none of this had ever happened. It's all my fault anyway. I've caused all of this pain... this anguish. The blood of all these people lies on my hands. It is something that I can never wash clean."  
  
Harry glanced out in the dungeon before moving to the wall and pushing his small bed aside. Inside the wall there lay a few tattered bits of parchment. Gently he took them in his hand as they were something to be treasured. He feared that they may crumble to pieces because he'd had them so long. They were the one thing that Voldemort didn't and couldn't have taken from him. Harry once again reached into the small hole and pulled out a single shiny bit of glass. He had coveted it from the day it had fallen from his mirror. It was his inspiration. The jagged edges of his life were all too similar to the piece of glass that lay in his hand. The tip was crusty with something that looked suspiciously like blood. Picking up one of the parchments Harry paused to read the crudely written message.  
  
Darkness has consumed me. It has become all that I am. They say that I am Harry But it's no more than a scam  
  
I have become a puppet I submit to his command I follow what he tells me And cower under his hand  
  
His eyes moved to the bottom of the page where in horrible crude letters it was written:  
  
'All I wish is too die!'  
  
Taking a rattled breath Harry reached for a parchment that was free from his random outbursts. Poetry was his real way of dealing. Through it he was able to get away and escape from all that was happening to him. Picking up the small shard of glass that he had treasured for so long he mad a small deliberate cut on the tips of his pinky finger. When blood had formed around the cut he began the long laborious task of putting his thoughts on paper. Using his finger as a pen he explored the world he lived in and poured out his soul on the tiny bit of parchment in front of him. Whenever one of his fingers would heal he would pick up the glass and cut another one. Tears were no longer coming. He no longer felt the pain. All he needed was to just let it out. To make others understand what he felt inside.  
  
I'm hanging by my fingertips Clawing at the sides I've slipped and seen what was below And it froze my insides I try to just ignore it But the dark abyss is always there It's enveloping my body And screams fill the air I could become one of those An endless screaming voice But then I would truly enter Hell at my own choice It seems I will not give in But my life is hanging on the edge All that's keeping me there Is a root hung over the ledge Hope reaches out it hands It comes to me like a calling A soft voice fills the air And I don't feel like falling My muscles all are screaming They no longer care But the abyss can't have me The voice isn't willing to share The root feels like it's breaking Only hope will keep me alive The sun is finally shining And I'm fighting to survive. There's only the voices now It's drowning out the blare Now I finally can here them They say, "Hang in there" I wish that I could listen, To that small shimmer of light But hope had been dying Since that cold fateful night. "I love you," I whisper And silently shed my last tear With trembling hands I pick up a rock And carve "I was here"  
  
After he had finished the last 'E' Harry picked up the piece of glass one last time. Slowly he made a long gash on his thumb and pressed it to the paper. When he pulled his hand away a bright thumbprint shown up at him. Still glistening before it sunk into the paper, until it realized the reality it lived in. Seemly satisfied Harry picked up his random papers filled with poetry and stuffed them back into the tiny hole. He hesitantly let go of the tiny sliver of glass. He didn't want to let go of it. And what scared him was he didn't want to stop at just his fingers. His once delicate skin was grimy and covered in dirt. All he wanted was to cut and just bleed his feelings out. When writing his poetry it was the only time that he felt truly free.  
  
With thoughts of freedom his mind was brought back to his disturbing dream that he was falling from the east tower. It had seemed so real, and his other dream about killing the students had too. In fact if Harry hadn't been in his cell at that very moment he probably wouldn't have believed he wasn't there. The look on Colin's face was horrible.. And I did that... I killed him...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~* Dream *~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry was standing in a white room but he wasn't alone. He was surrounded by his family and friends and among them he saw Hermione, Dumbledore, even all the Weasley's waving good naturally, their violent red hair setting them apart. But smiling in the corner was Colin who was beckoning Harry over to him. Walking over excitedly Harry went to give Colin a hug but ended up falling right through him. Looking back he saw Colin fade away right before his eyes. Reaching for Hermione's hand she also slowly faded away a sad smile on her face.  
  
The rest of the crowd began to melt away as he stood there aghast. Rushing around the room he tried desperately to catch them in his arms. To hold them there and stop them from leaving again. But soon he was left empty in the room and he fell to his knees his hands to his face.  
  
Suddenly his eyes began burning and his face was becoming drenched. Horrified, Harry pulled his hands away from his face and saw that it was blood flowing in torrents from his hands. Frantically he tried to stop the blood from gushing out but slowly it began rising around him. Soon he was fighting to keep afloat but he was weighted and it was slowly bringing him down. Gulping for air he swallowed bits of blood and began sinking like a rock. But he didn't feel like fighting it.  
  
Finally sinking to the floor Harry knew it was over and so he finally just gave up. He let the blood of his victims consume him as he knew it would in the end. 


	9. Of Death and Meetings

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry and that's probably a good thing because a lot of people would be upset.  
  
A/N: *sobs* I'm so horribly sorry that this has taken me forever to write but school is evil and should die (and it's only been a week) and my muse really has died *desperately tries to revive muse* so if this chapter isn't as good please forgive me. *picks up electroshockers* clear! *tries to get a pulse on muse*  
  
And for random thank you's. thank you soooo much Zou for beta-reading my stories and Sparkles whose given me some ideas that I really hope I can tie in and anyone else that's been reviewing! It makes me think someone out there actually cares! Wai! ^_______^ so please review!!! And now on with the story.  
  
Alright one small thing and then I swear I'll leave you alone *evil grin* remember book five never happened so Sirius is.. Yes right then on with the story!  
  
Voldemort paced the floor of his study. He felt something now that he had been running from since his childhood. It was fear. He felt it ebbing away at his calm stature, and his once expressionless face was drawn up tight in worry.  
  
"Wormtail is dead now... I have to attack swiftly. They will find out and strike when they think I'm weak. I cannot let this setback my plans..."  
  
With a sigh and the swish of his cloak Voldemort made his way out of his now dark and cold study. Rolling up his sleeves he revealed a violently green mark of a snake entwined in a skull. Placing a long white finger right between the eyes it began to shine.  
  
~* 1 hour later *~  
  
A circle of death eaters were now standing around a small and sickly greenish looking fire. There were, like the last meeting, a few small gaps around, but they were all quickly being filled by some new faces.  
  
Slowly Voldemort rose from his hunched position on the armchair. Sighing he turned and faced the door. 'Alright I can't let them see my fear. No! I have no fear! I am Lord Voldemort!' Fixing his face into a look of malice he strode through the door and into the circle.  
  
"As you know" said Voldemort importantly. "Dumbledore is dead!"  
  
There was great rustling and people murmuring things like "Finally!" One death eater blurted out, "That mudblood-loving old fool was just getting in the way."  
  
Voldemort whipped around and faced the speaker. "Rodophus isn't it?"  
  
"Yes. yes my lord." The death eater said hesitantly.  
  
"Come here." He said beckoning with a careless wave of his hand.  
  
The man came forward slowly bowing his head. "Oh no need to be scared to be sure. As long as you were honest." With a quick push of his hand Voldemort pushed the man into the fire.  
  
The once sickly green color had turned neon yellow and Rodophus' screams of agony could be heard over the roar of the flames. "Ahh." said Voldemort slowly. "It seems our good 'friend' Rodophus had a little more of a story than he let on to. If you're truthful it will stay green and you aren't harmed. But as you can see he was far from honest. I hope you see now that I am quite serious about what I plan to do. For this to work your loyalty is essential and I don't tolerate traitors. Let his death be a lesson to all of you!"  
  
There was a sharp intake of breath among the crowd and Voldemort let out a short hissing laugh. "Now! This is when the fun begins. The time has come my friends! At last we shall attack and take back what should have been ours from the beginning. You soon shall have the power that you earned. But!" he said with great emphasis. "You must be faithful to me or shall die like the others."  
  
Over the course of the next few hours Voldemort poured out his plan of attack. Finally when it had all been explained four times over he was able to escape back to the quiet of his study. Rubbing his temples Voldemort let out a deep sigh but was soon interrupted by a timid rap at the door.  
  
"Can you not see I'm taking my rest now you fool? Curse you all! Leave me in peace for the time being you unfaithful dog and I shall deal with you later."  
  
Quietly Cho withdrew from the door clutching her arm in pain. The new mark on her arm still blazed with a green light and she felt like it was on fire. Her teeth clenched she pulled her hood up over her face and with a new wave of determination set out to find Draco.  
  
"I have to set his plans into action!"  
  
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When Harry awoke from his dream he lay there for a moment or two letting the quiet doom settle in. Sitting up suddenly Harry finally made a real decision.  
  
Reaching into the small whole Harry dug out his blood stained poems. But they couldn't help him any more... There was only one thing could.  
  
Harry paused when he finally found what he had been searching for. His hand clasped tightly around the small shard of glass and he slowly brought it out into the light. Getting to his knees Harry took a few deep breaths.  
  
"I won't back down this time though!" Harry said firmly. "I'm going to take charge for what I did. Someone has to pay!"  
  
With that Harry raised the broken bit of glass to his wrist.  
  
*CLANG*  
  
Harry's cell door opened with a tremendous force and for a few moments Harry had the glorious idea of freedom. But slowly making his way out into the room beyond his tiny cell he saw nothing new. The same black marble mirror sat in the corner and the room was full of torches.  
  
Looking deep into the mirror Harry could see the faces of all his friends smiling up at him. A shadow past over them though and one by one the faces of happiness turned to panic and fear. One by one they fell to the power of some unseen killer and once again Harry could do nothing to stop it. When finally Colin had crumpled to the floor the murder made his appearance. With an impish grin he stepped closer to Harry and nodded.  
  
"NOOO!!" Harry yelled picking up the nearest torch and throwing it as hard as he could towards the mirror.  
  
With an earsplitting crunch it shattered into millions of pieces that rained down on Harry's head. But Harry couldn't stop shaking. "I did it... I killed them all... "  
  
Looking down Harry stared at the faces which were gazing up at him. The pieces of his life lay scattered on the floor. Slowly he sank to his knees and looked at the shard in his hand. Cold and gleaming the angry edges shimmered in the moonlight.  
  
The little piece of glass was so simple and almost intriguing he realized turning it over in his hands. At first glance it looked so simple and pure, but if you looked closer you can see the imperfections and harsh corners. That's what can tear your life apart.  
  
Gazing into the broken bits of mirror Harry was able to for the first time in forever it seemed to see what he had become. His once brilliant green eyes were sunken in and his skin sallow. He felt as if had aged 70 years in the past few months. And he felt so tired and overused, like a teddy bear that over the years has lost all his stuffing. But something hurt even more right then.  
  
"I've done nothing in my life worth anything" he exclaimed suddenly.  
  
His thoughts of happier times at Hogwarts were lost in his despair. The smiling friends he once had were mere shadows. All that was left was Harry... Harry and darkness. He felt so completely alone.  
  
A single red drop fell with a splash onto the mirror. Harry opened his hand in surprise. The shard of glass had cut his palm and a thin trickle of blood was snaking its way down his arm.  
  
The thing that surprised Harry the most wasn't the fact that he was bleeding, but rather the fact that it didn't hurt. Instead it felt like a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. And as he gazed at his hand a smile crossed his face. With a determined glint in his eye Harry grasped the shard of glass firmly. The blood was flowing more freely now as he meticulously began slicing away at his once thin tender wrists.  
  
Slowly he sank to floor and his head began to spin. A pool began forming below him and staining the floor with his blood. But there was a smile as the shard slipped from his hand and his eyes rolled back. The last thing he remembered before he fainted was a yell. And Harry breathed his last several hours later curled up in a pool of his own blood and the bit of glass still grasped lovingly in his hands.  
  
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"No!" Sirius bellowed pounding down the door. But it was too late. Rushing into the small white room Sirius splashed through the crimson pool that tainted the floor. "Harry?" he whispered grasping the boy's shoulders firmly. "Harry!!"  
  
Sirius' body gave a shudder and he carefully lay the boys body back down. Prying apart his fingers he spotted the small thing that had taken so much from him. With tears in his eyes he held the shard tightly in his hand and paused for a moment. "There was so much you didn't know Harry. I blame myself for not telling you. But I won't let him do this anymore. He'll pay for what he did to you!"  
  
Silently he kissed Harry's forehead and rose to leave. "I am so sorry for all that I've done to you." he paused and took in a deep breath. "My son."  
  
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Voldemort's only movements now were sporadic and sudden. His once greedy eyes lost all ambition and his head lay lazily over his shoulder. The fire was extinguished in the grate and the room had a cold edge to it. But more interest lay in the chair then anything else. Because that was where he had reached his final resting place.  
  
The screams had finally stopped but the voices were forever echoing. The many voices of the dead were finally free, and all of Voldemort's victims were unchained. There was only one that would not take freedom. They stayed with darkness until the end. Their strength failed them long ago. And all that they left back here in this mess was a small pile of clothes and two words 'I rest'. That was long long ago and each day since that day we've sat here and wondered and wondered away.  
  
You see over the years, the power, and the anger, and all the resentment towards everyone around him ate him up inside. But half of him was still innocent. It was the side that tried to escape the evils of the world. Yet it was he that killed it and without that childlike innocence holding him back he was lost.  
  
And yet he finally had his freedom. He was no longer chained to the world of pain he had created. And so it happened on this day that three wizards died.  
  
The first was the famous Harry Potter who through it all found that he in the end couldn't deal with what he thought he'd done. In the end it was the guilt for what he'd done that consumed him.  
  
The second was another death that was soon spread quickly throughout the countryside. Lord Voldemort had been discovered dead in his study. No one knows what happened to him but it is greatly rejoiced and none seem to care to find a reason.  
  
The third death was a small one compared to the others that happened and was mourned quietly by close friends and family. That was the death of the young Neville Longbottom who was killed on his first mission as an auror.  
  
How different these three deaths may seem. Yet how alike they all are. For Voldemort had one weakness that none knew. It had happened years back when he was only 16 years old. He was still Tom then, still the model student, and the one everyone loved. But in his mind he came up with a plot to kill his family. There was only one way it would work without him coming under suspicion though. 


End file.
